


Five Times Bones Couldn’t Save Jim and The One Time He Did

by shaolin103



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 02:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaolin103/pseuds/shaolin103
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it matters that you're there. And at times, it doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Bones Couldn’t Save Jim and The One Time He Did

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Five Times Bones Couldn’t Save Jim and The One Time He Did  
> Rating: R  
> Pairing: Kirk/Bones (pre-slash)  
> Summary: Sometimes it matters that you're there. And at times, it doesn't.  
> Warning: NOT a death fic because if so, I would have killed Jim 5 times. I know James Tiberius Kirk is invincible and all but 5 times would just be, well….overkill. But it's a bit angsty though.Unbeta'd so mistakes are solely mine  
> Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to the geniuses that created them.
> 
> A/N: For kilala10. Wouldn't have been made without you. Thanks again.

 

Five Times Bones Couldn’t Save Jim and The One Time He Did

 

**_1st time:_ **

He was supposed to be out drinking with Jim tonight. Tonight, being their weekly drinking binge and all. Except, he had to beg off because for some reason there was a sudden onslaught of students complaining of breathing difficulties and lightheadedness.

It turned out there was a sort of mishap in one of the academy’s laboratories that may have involved an explosion and fumes and air vents; Bones didn’t really know the exact details. They were just lucky the building’s air purification mechanism was activated or they would have had half the campus flocking the hospital for various shots of anti-histamines and whatnots.

By the time Jim had dropped by to tell him it was time to go. Bones had forgotten it was bar night with his best friend. Things were still in a fritz and entirely out of control.

“I can’t, Jim. I’m gonna have to take a rain check tonight. Next week, I promise.” He had told the young man in a frantic tone, too busy to even look up from his work to miss the miserable pout on his friend’s face.

“Okay.” Jim had said, shoulders slumping as he turned to leave.

“Wait.” Bones called out as he approached Jim and pulled him towards the nearest unoccupied med bed and sitting him down. “You weren’t by any chance near the organic chemistry lab this afternoon, were you?” He asked even if he already was running a scan on his friend.

“Nope. Didn’t go to my classes today.” Jim had replied, for once obedient with Bones’ ministrations. Mainly because he was confident he wasn’t near the campus today, let alone the chem labs.

“Mmmm-hmmm.” Bones should have asked why Jim had cut class that day but he settled for a disappointed harrumph. “We’ll talk later. Now go and stay out of trouble.” He said as he sent Jim away.

It was hours later when things started to finally subside from frantic to slightly normal that Bones finally took a breather and tried to call Jim for a late meet-up. Jim wasn’t answering his calls, which led him to believe that Jim probably was either too busy with a chick or getting shit-faced without him to pick up the call. He sighed and decided to turn in; he could use the sleep more than a stiff one at the moment. It had been a long day.

He was halfway back to the dorms when he got the call. The conversation with the night nurse was brief. Jim had been in another brawl and was currently in the hospital. Since McCoy was listed as Jim’s emergency contact and personal physician – Bones actually made sure both were written in Jim’s cadet medical file – not to mention everyone else in the hospital knew Leonard McCoy was James T. Kirk’s best friend and sometimes keeper, they had called him as soon as the guy came in with a black eye, bloody nose and possibly a concussion and some broken ribs.

With that, Bones found himself at a run back to the hospital.

One of his intern friends told him Jim came in bloodied and bruised and was looking for Bones before promptly passing out in the middle of the emergency room. The sudden guilt that washed over him came as a surprise. The idea that Jim had come to the hospital on his own in the hopes of finding Bones and have the good doctor patch him up, only to realize said good doctor wasn’t around to do so sent a shiver down McCoy’s spine.

His gait was deliberate as he walked along the corridors to Jim’s private room, footsteps stomping half in anger, half in concern. The concern was for Jim, the anger, at those bastards that beat his friend up.

At least McCoy thought so.

But truthfully, he was angrier with himself.

It would have been possible that Jim wouldn’t be in this kind of predicament had Bones been out with him tonight. Sure, it was inevitable that Jim got into a fight even when Bones was around but at least Bones provided him with some back up and immediate medical assistance when needed.

He stepped inside Jim’s room and had to stifle the gasp of shock. Jim was deathly pale under the soft light the room was set in. There were scratches on his face that required stitching, a gash on his head that needed to be bandaged, and what seemed to be a broken wrist wrapped in a cast. He fished Jim’s chart out of its compartment and balked at the other injuries that weren’t visible; three broken ribs, a fractured collarbone, a concussion, a couple more bruised ribs and more scratches and bruises in his torso plus a sprained ankle.

“Dammit, Jim! What did they do to you?” His tone was soft, not irritated or annoyed like it normally was when he usually talked to Jim, defeat evident in the slump of his shoulders and the sigh that followed it.

He grabbed a nearby chair and set it by Jim’s bedside and sat there to keep vigil.

It’s a couple of hours into said vigil that he looked up to find the calendar on the chrono staring back at him as the numbers chimed for midnight. And everything fell into place, his stomach lurching in time with the realization. The reason why Jim had cut class; why Jim had been so downtrodden when he found out Bones couldn’t go drinking with him; and most probably the reason for getting himself this messed up. And the reason for coming to the hospital, looking for Bones- all bloodied and bruised.

It had been the anniversary of the USS Kelvin’s demise. The anniversary of his father’s death. Most importantly, it had been Jim’s birthday.

McCoy had been a fool. He had unknowingly turned his back on his best friend on that one day of the year that mattered the most.

Jim just wanted to be with someone familiar and constant that day. Someone that would remind him of what he has and not what he’s lost; someone who’d be there and not one who’d leave.

Someone like Bones.

But at the exact moment Jim needed him to be, Bones wasn’t there. At the exact moment Jim needed him to stay put, Bones had left. At the exact moment Jim needed him to remember, Bones had forgotten.

And it was too late wasn’t it? 27.41 seconds too late. ‘Cause Bones couldn't turn back time. It was officially the day after. Jim had spent the whole day yesterday practically alone. And it was the one-day he didn’t have to. The one-day he shouldn’t have had to.

Except, he did.

“Dammit Jim. You could have said something.” Bones told the unconscious man. He carded deft fingers through Jim’s hair and ran his palms across Jim’s forehead over and over to soothe the pained frown that had formed there. “I’m sorry.” Bones whispered softly as he tried so hard to hold back tears.

He should have been there.

It would have had made a difference.

He could have saved Jim from the feeling of loss. He could have saved Jim from the loneliness. He could have saved Jim from all the blows. He could have saved Jim from all the pain.

It would have made a difference.

He should have been there.

But he wasn’t.

 

**_2nd Time:_ **

He didn’t do anything. Just stood there and watched as the pointy-eared bastard clamped Jim between the neck and shoulder; just flinched when Jim’s prone body haplessly crumpled and hit the floor as he fell unconscious. He didn’t even protest when Spock gave out the order to put Jim in a pod and maroon him on the nearest remote planet.

A planet called Delta Vega.

So, it wasn’t a surprise when Spock had asked to see him moments later and expressed his “thanks” for the “support” Bones had shown for him, considering Jim was his friend and all.

And it was what sent Bones off.

He didn’t need a pointy eared, self-righteous, close-minded, too logical thinking asshole to confirm how much he had betrayed his best friend. McCoy already knew that.

And he can call said pointy eared, self righteous, close-minded, too logical thinking asshole- a “green-blooded hobgoblin” all he wanted but that didn’t alleviate the fact that he was feeling guilty for not standing up for his best friend.

So, he walked back to medical bay grumbling and muttering, furious at everybody else just so he could tell himself he wasn't more furious with himself.

He went straight to Dr. Puri’s – now his - office and ordered the computer to pull out whatever file it had on Delta Vega. Spock had assured him that said remote planet was deserted and completely devoid of hostile inhabitants.

Bones found out, half an hour of browsing the file later, that ‘hostile inhabitants’ only referred to the human and alien species. It didn’t include wildlife of the animal kind.

The file had said Delta Vega was home to some one hundred and fifty species of predatory animals, fifty percent of those uncharted. Drakoulias and Hengrauggi topped the list of deadly creatures. If hypothermia didn’t kill Jim, those things surely will.  

McCoy’s stomach dropped further as he read through the file, different scenarios running through his mind. All not good. All ending in Jim lying in a puddle of his own blood, his mangled body lying on cold, hard ice. Lifeless.

He cursed loudly, making the rest of the medical staff outside his office jump. He forwarded the file to the bridge, addressing it to Spock with a header that said: _**You Call This Uninhabited!!???**_

He highlighted the important bits then wrote a footnote at the end of the file that said: _**If anything happens to Jim in that godforsaken planet, a hypospray full of poison, jabbed up your ass is going to be the least of your worries, you green-blooded hobgoblin**_!

He didn’t care who else might read it before it got to Spock.

 

**_3rd Time:_ **

Eight hours after they had blown the Narada and it’s occupants into oblivion, Bones found himself once again keeping vigil by Jim’s bedside. His friend had just dropped off to sleep after he had dosed him with a not-so-mild sedative. If Bones hadn’t dragged Jim to sickbay, Jim might have ran himself ragged until he passed out from pain or sheer exhaustion, whichever came first.

Bones had mended the gashes, the breaks, the scratches and the bumps but the bruises had remained, telltale signs of what Jim’s body had gone through for the past thirty-two hours or so. The most prominent of all bruises were the finger shaped ones on Jim’s neck. It seemed the pointy-eared bastard had done quite a number on it.

But Bones was fairly sure it wasn’t just the green blooded hobgoblin that had attempted to strangle his best friend to death. Judging from the different size handprints, there were at least two more.

He ran his fingers softly across the sleeping man’s neck, caressing the bruised skin. He didn’t know who else had attempted to strangle his friend, he wasn’t there.

But he knew he should have done something when Spock did.

He was there.

 

_**4th Time:** _

Bones squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let tears fall. He tried to block out the agonizing screams from the cell next to him.

“Stop it, you fuckers.” He yelled for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last hour, even if he could not see so-called fuckers. But his shouts fell on deaf ears, as the alien race that had captured and imprisoned them continued with their torture of the USS Enterprise’s Captain.

He would have yelled at Jim to just tell them what they needed to know but these people weren’t after any information. It was not an interrogation. It was torture for pure sadistic pleasure.

His knuckles were white and his palms were bloody from grasping and shaking the bars of the old-fashioned prison cell. He felt it tremble slightly as Spock, with all his Vulcan strength tried to slam the bars with his own body but old-fashioned as it was, the prison cell was built sturdy.

Another half an hour later and Jim’s screams of pain had slowly subsided and finally stopped. Bones didn’t know if he should be relieved or terrified it had. Either their captors had taken a break or Jim was dead. Bones prayed to God it wasn’t the latter.

He let the tears fall.

 

_**5th Time:** _

Jim was alive. The sleeping lump on Bones’ bed affirmed it. But it had been so close. The boy was lucky to be breathing, even if he had stopped doing so that fateful day a week ago.

_Spock had finally broken through the prison bars. They rushed for the Captain’s cell and Bones would forever be grateful for Vulcan speed and strength as Spock unarmed two aliens at the same time. Bones grabbed one of the fallen alien’s phaser and shot the lock to Jim’s prison door open._

_Jim wasn’t breathing when he got there. The bastards had left him for dead. He administered CPR and broke a few of Jim’s ribs in the process but the gasp of air, filling deprived lungs and the raspy breathing that followed, were music to McCoy’s ears._

_The Vulcan scooped Jim up in his arms and they hightailed it out of there. Bones lead the way out, phaser at the ready for any oncoming opponent that might try and stop them from escaping. Bones didn't bother to check if the phaser in his grasp was set to stun or kill. Either way, he still wouldn’t hesitate to shoot anyone that would bar them from leaving._  
  
Bones shook his head as if ridding his mind of the disturbing memory.

Jim was stirring and Bones set down the tray of food he managed to salvage from the mess hall at this ungodly hour. But the stirring turned into thrashing and it took a split second for Bones to realize that his friend was having another nightmare.

Jim’s injuries have been proof of the amount of torture he had gone through. The trauma, along with the scars weren’t going anywhere so soon. Bones shook his friend awake and tried to soothe him back to sleep when Jim woke up with a jolt, whole body tensed and shaking.

It was the reason for the Captain-sleeping-in-the-CMO’s-quarters arrangement. At first it was so that Bones can keep watch over Jim’s injuries after the Captain had adamantly refused to stay in sickbay for longer than two days.

Bones begrudgingly acquiesced but with the condition that Jim stayed in Bones’ quarters for the duration of his recovery. The wounds had healed in three days but the nightmares didn’t go away with it. But having Bones there at least kept the worse ones at bay. So when Jim didn’t make a move of leaving for his own quarters, Bones was thankful for it. Thankful to be allowed to be there without having to ask.  
It was the least he could do.

Jim didn’t talk much these days, just spent half his time awake, staring into space. He didn’t eat much either so it was no surprise he had lost a tremendous amount of weight. Bones had pleaded and threatened but Jim still refused to eat.

The feeling of helplessness had been Bones’ constant companion since the first scream of pain that came out of Jim’s mouth in that hellhole of a prison cell. He was Jim’s friend but he can’t make the nightmares go away. He was Jim’s doctor but he can’t make the pain go away.

Because it was the kind of pain doctors couldn’t heal with hyposprays.

Because it was the kind of pain Bones couldn’t heal by just being there.

 

**The One Time He Did:**

_“Bones!”_

_“Bones!”_

_“Bones, goddammit. Wake up!”_

It was dark in here, wherever it was. And that voice niggling in the back of his mind kept yelling at him to wake up.

 _“Bones, please.”_  
   
And now it was back to pleading.

_“You gotta wake up.”_

Bones wanted to tell Jim that he didn’t want to. That he was comfortable in this dark oblivion he was trying to slip into.  
   
 _“Bones, please. Please.”_

There was a sob and Bones couldn’t comprehend why Jim was crying. It was a hard feat to accomplish but he tried not to slip back into deep sleep yet. He wanted to ask what was wrong but Jim seemed so far away.

 _“Bones, wake up!”_  
  
Those words were full of anguish and grief that Bones couldn’t help but panic. What was going on? The last thing he remembered was a Klingon attack, then nothing.

 _“You’re dying, you son of a bitch. The fucking good for nothing doctors keep saying there was nothing they could do.”_  
  
So much anger.  
  
 _“They’re taking you off life support, Bones. Please.”_  
  
So much grief.  
  
 _“Please, open your eyes.”_

So much pleading.  
  
 _“What am I supposed to do without you?”_  
  
So much helplessness.  
  
 _“Just open your eyes.”_

So much hope.  
  
 _“Please, I’ll die. I’ll die without you.”_

And that was it; there was no way Bones was going to allow that to happen. Not when he could do something about it. So he fought, and he fought hard against the darkness that tried to engulf him and with all the strength he could muster,

He opened his eyes.

 

The End.

Thanks for reading.

* * *

 

 

 

  
_Written:_ 3 August 2009

  


 


End file.
